Scold Jones and Cormier for presser brawl if you want to, but don't act like you won't watch

It’s only when the pre-fight staredown goes wrong that you realize how weird a tradition it is in the first place.

Here are these two guys – in this case, UFC light heavyweight champ Jon Jones and challenger Daniel Cormier – who are going to fight in Las Vegas next month. Not this week. Not a year from now. We’re talking UFC 178 in late September, which is both far enough away to make the press conference a more obvious piece of theater and yet close enough to the fight that you’d think they’d be able to wait until the appointed day and time before putting their hands on one another.

You’d be wrong, apparently.

By now you’ve seen the video, so you know how it goes. Jones gets a little too cozy for Cormier’s comfort. Cormier shoves him away. Jones drops the UFC belt with a satisfying thunk, then brushes UFC PR man Dave Sholler aside like a man skirting past an overly enthusiastic golden retriever whose affections do not interest him. That’s about when all hell breaks loose.

There are two kinds of press conference brawls: The kind where real punches are really thrown, and the kind that are hardly worth talking about. This was the first kind.

Both at the start of the melee and near its conclusion Jones can be seen winging hard lefts like he doesn’t realize how fragile the bones in the human hand really are, or how much money he’d sacrifice by breaking one just then. Cormier, once he’s been dragged clear of the human rubble and is back on his feet, throws a shoe in the champ’s general direction in a classic “Jerry Springer Show”-style expression of impotent rage.

In other words, stuff got real, and even a little bit scary. It’s as if no one told these two that that’s supposed to be the subtext of these public staredowns. It’s not supposed to actually happen. When it does happen, that’s when we’re forced to choose between shaking our heads at the lack of professionalism, and hitting refresh on the video so we can watch it again.

But then, why choose? Why not do both? Because, while we all know fighters aren’t supposed to do this kind of thing – for a number of reasons, including but not limited to the risk of injuries and lawsuits – we can’t act like it’s that unexpected, or even that unwelcome. One reason the bout between Jones and Cormier is so appealing to begin with is the fact that they seem to legitimately despise each other. Seeing them go at it in street clothes like unruly customers at an Outback Steakhouse only increases the anticipation for the real fight.

Sure, it’s a bad idea. It’s an especially bad idea for Jones, who instigated the really nasty stuff despite having very recently sustained a well-documented cut over one eye. It’s also, in a sport where fighting is the whole point, mostly an issue of timing and choice of venue.

We can’t be mad that Jones (20-1 MMA, 14-1 UFC) and Cormier (15-0 MMA, 4-0 UFC) fought. We can only be mad that they did it in the lobby of the MGM Grand where there were too many people in the way for us to get a good look at all the action. It’s like two political candidates getting into an argument in the parking lot on the way into the televised debate. More than anything, you just wish they’d save it for when it counts.

The big question is, what will the UFC do about this? How about the Nevada State Athletic Commission? Both are ostensibly supposed to be keeping stuff like this from happening, or at least punishing the responsible parties when it does happen. Then again, both also have a vested interest in seeing this fight go down as scheduled, especially now that footage of the brawl has spread far and wide on social media. That all but guarantees a blockbuster of a night when Jones and Cormier actually step into the one enclosure on the planet that exists specifically for this brand of violence.

If you’re UFC President Dana White, you might feel obliged to do a little scolding here. But as long as both guys are still healthy enough to fight for profit on Sept. 27 at MGM Grand Garden Arena, how can you not be at least a little grateful? You wouldn’t want fighters to make a habit of it, if only for the damage to the press conference sets and the high turnover rate it would cause among UFC PR flacks. You also can’t act like it’s not good for business, when done well and sparingly.

That’s not to say this was staged, though surely some conspiracy theorists will claim otherwise. (Here’s a fun thought experiment for that hypothetical: Imagine being the person who has to tell Cormier that’s his role in this involves ending up on his back getting punched in the head). Still, it’d be a little naive to think that Jones, who gets a cut of pay-per-view revenues when he defends his title, might not have done a little quick math on how it would affect his bottom line to take a swing at Cormier in full public view.

Sloppy? Sure. Unprofessional? Pretty much by definition. Embarrassing? Yes, but mostly for us, the people who couldn’t wait to see it. Nothing reminds you what a bizarre thing it is to be so personally invested in a sport that revolves around scheduled fighting quite like the sudden eruption of unscheduled fighting. It’s hard to simultaneously wag a disapproving finger while also hitting play on the video.

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